It's not all bad.

Pregnancy has been a challenge to me.  To say the least.  I always grew up listening to my mother remember how much she enjoyed being pregnant.  She loved every single second of growing bigger, being sick, and being bed-ridden.  I always thought that I too would love the experience.  I mean, if a woman who was nauseous, gained 65 pounds with both of her pregnancies, was put on bed rest because of a slipped disk in her back (because of the 65 pounds, no doubt), had gestational diabetes (again 65 pounds), and with her second pregnancy developed cerebral palsy, which resulted in half of her face being paralyzed.  PARALYZED.  I mean, who has ever even heard of that?!?  Even after all of these things, she loved it.  Not just liked it, didn't think it was kinda cool but by the end was over it.  No, she loooooved it.  And she never got tired of it.

So, naturally, I thought I would love it.  If a woman can go through all the things my mother did and still love it, I should too, right?  Not.  I now have the utmost respect for women who have many children, like the husband's gramma, who had 10.  And the Duggar wife.  You know, the "19 Kids and Counting" mom.  I am barely making it through my one pregnancy, let alone 19.  Who does that?  Someone with a very high tolerance for all things pregnancy, that's who.  I, on the other hand, have not enjoyed being pregnant.  Which makes me feel like a bad mom.  And technically, I'm not even a mom yet.

While I openly do not enjoy being pregnant (the poor husband can attest to my constant complaints and struggles) there has been one major plus to it.  And no, it's not eating like a pig.  I do that anyway, I don't need pregnancy to use as an excuse.  The best part about it has been seeing the husband's reaction to everything.  He has never been more supportive or understanding than the past 8 months, and it has given me a glimpse into what I can expect when the baby is finally born.

Today he walked in from work and saw the open box of Lucky Charms sitting next to my laptop and spread of materials I was working on.  (In my defense, we don't buy sugary cereal, but I am teaching a St. Patrick's Day graphing lesson and am using the cereal for the math pieces.)  He came up to me in the kitchen with a big smile on his face and asked "What did you have?!?"  I sheepishly admitted that while I opened the box so I could prep for Friday and make a graph paper for the kids, I couldn't resist and had a bowl for myself.  He just laughed, lovingly grabbed my belly, brought his face right up to the baby bump and said "Did you have Lucky Charms, Liam?"  It was the sweetest moment.

And these heart-melting moments happen all the time with the husband.  He tenderly rests his hand on my belly while we're in bed just to feel if baby is moving.  Normally I hate when he wakes me up before the alarm, but on a few occasions since we've conceived, he has woken me up when he slides his hand over to feel the bump and see if he can get baby to move.  I love being woken up that way.  He refers to the baby as being "Team Daddy" and while I pretend to be upset at the thought that the baby might like the husband more than me, I am secretly falling more in love with the husband at the thought that he adores his son so much already.  I know that we will make a great team once the baby is here.  And so, pregnancy does have it's perks, thanks to my wonderful husband.